I want to write, to tell the world how I feel. My whole life I’ve had to keep secrets to the point where it just built up until I exploded.

There was this place where I used to be – a dark place. Even if I described it to you, it would be different to your own place, the place where you go in your hardest, most confusing moments. I believe everyone has there own dark corner, and even though it isn’t pleasant, it keeps you safe, whether that sense of security is real or not I couldn’t tell you.

All I know is, I was born into someone’s dark place and I grew up in it, sometimes I still feel like I’m there. Maybe sometimes I am still there. If I could I would reach into the deepest, darkest part of myself, I would rip it out of me, I would shred it or burn it, bury it as deep as a possibly can. Truthfully, I think I’ve already buried it as deep as it can go.

I’ve brought these cryptic words to the internet because I don’t think people understand when I say them, no one will know what this is about and I’m sorry I can’t spell it out. I’m sorry for myself because a part of me has always wanted to scream it through a megaphone to the world. I’m tired of the secrets, of the dark places.

Being a kid, I didn’t have that. I played in the mud like anyone else does, but in my head there was no silence, there was no break, there still isn’t. I don’t switch off, these secrets that I have been told or I have kept myself, they spin around and around in my head.

I had an assembly a few days ago, a guest speaker came in and asked us what we used to do when we were 8 years old. Yet all that came to my mind was being afraid, keeping secrets and not wanting to open my eyes anymore.

I guess that’s it really, I don’t want to remember anything else.

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